


No Rest for the Wicked

by exploringcastleoblivion (PurpleArmadillo), PurpleArmadillo



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArmadillo/pseuds/exploringcastleoblivion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArmadillo/pseuds/PurpleArmadillo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ienzo was prepared for the unstable illusion magic. He knew it was the result of too much stress and not enough sleep. But he wasn't expecting the visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unexpected Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Another "send me a sentence" writing prompt from tumblr. I've had this idea in my head for awhile, and this was the perfect opportunity to begin writing it. I'm not sure how many chapters this will have, nor how long they will be (this one is short, as it's kind of a prologue) but the idea has so much potential. So many things that could happen. What nightmare have I started? I have several plans for future chapters but feel free to suggest something.
> 
> Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney and Square Enix.

The heavy stench of darkness was the first thing Ienzo noticed in the room. The second thing was its source. He froze, barely even half a step through the doorway, his shoulders tensing, hands curling involuntarily into fists at his sides. 

He’d known it was only a matter of time before sleep deprivation caught up to him and resulted in unstable illusion magic. He’d dealt with volatile illusions in the past, back when he’d first lost his heart and was still learning how to handle his new abilities. He’d expected sleep deprivation would cause similar effects: lights flickering on and off, shadows warping as he passed by, walls melting and reforming into the cold, solemn grays of Never Was.

But _this_ …this was something he hadn’t anticipated. Though in hindsight, he really _should_ have. 

Before Ienzo could completely regain his composure, the cloaked figure seated on the edge of his bed, one leg folded neatly over the other, glanced up from its book. An amused smirk was briefly visible beneath the figure’s veil of hair.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” Zexion asked. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”


	2. Sleepless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ienzo has a sass match with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney and Square Enix.

He was exhausted, aggravated, and _not_ in the mood for the doppelganger or its nonsense. Ever since its first appearance three days prior, it seemed to have made haunting Ienzo its daily goal. He'd barely managed to get any sleep.

With an irritated sigh, Ienzo rolled over in bed, dragging the sheets and blankets with him. Light from the desk lamp in the corner of the room seared his eyes. He blinked, staring hard at the far wall as he attempted to ignore the loud rummaging noises coming from behind him. Judging by the nature of the sounds, his “guest” had taken the liberty of reorganizing his bookshelf. After rifling through it. How kind of him.

Three minutes went by, punctuated by the incessant rustling of papers and thumping of book covers. Finally, Ienzo decided enough was enough. 

“Do you _mind?”_ He didn’t bother hiding the aggravation or disdain in his voice. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?” came Zexion’s airy reply, not sounding sorry in the slightest. The rustling and thumping continued.

“No, of course not,” Ienzo deadpanned. “It isn’t as though I’m trying to sleep or anything.” He rubbed his tired eyes and resisted the urge to sigh again. “Do you have to pester me _every_ night? You could at least choose a better time. Perhaps _before_ midnight?”

Zexion clucked his tongue admonishingly. “There’s no need to be so rude. Is that how you talk to all of your guests?”

“ _You_ are not a guest. We’ve been over this before. A more accurate descriptor would be ‘unwanted intruder.’ Or ‘annoying figment of my imagination.’ Whichever you prefer.”

“Is that your strategy to get rid of me? Insult me until I leave? It’s not going to work, I’m afraid. Now, surely we can have a _polite_ conversation for a change?”

Ienzo glared at the wall and pointedly readjusted the blankets, pulling them closer to his chin. “It’s five in the morning, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m _trying_ to get at least an hour of sleep while I still have the chance.”

Zexion ignored the hint, continuing his unnecessarily loud bookshelf organization. He gestured listlessly with one of the larger tomes—Ienzo could see his shadow on the far wall. “Oh, that’s right. You have that little meeting with the Restoration Committee this morning. You actually intend to go?”

Ienzo answered that with a long-suffering sigh. Apparently he wasn’t about to get any sleep. Not that he was surprised; this was the fourth time this week the doppelganger had kept him up. 

“Well, it should be interesting, to say the least,” Zexion continued. "I’m sure the members will be _thrilled_ to speak face-to-face with someone who destroyed their home and lives. You’ll certainly have plenty to talk about.”

“Must you bring that up _every time_ we have a conversation?” Ienzo snapped before he could stop himself, hands fisting in the blankets, what was left of his patience wearing dangerously thin. “ _Yes,_ I played a role in Radiant’s downfall but aren’t--”

“’Played a role?’” the illusion repeated, and Ienzo could hear the sneer in its tone. “That’s quite an understatement, don’t you think?” The rummaging noises stopped, replaced by the slow tap of boots as Zexion took to pacing instead. Ienzo frowned at his shadow as it stalked back and forth across the length of the wall.

“If I recall correctly,” Zexion said, “ _you_ were the one who persuaded Lord Ansem to construct that basement laboratory. _You_ alleviated his concerns the first time he wanted to stop the experiments. _You_ lured citizens into the castle to replenish the supply of test subjects. _You_ led Ansem into the study that night on Xehanort’s orders, then stood by and did _nothing_ as he was exiled to the realm of darkness…Need I go on? ‘Played a role,’ indeed. Xehanort aside, I’d say you were quite the major catalyst.”

Ienzo was clenching his fists so tightly that his fingernails were digging into his palms. But he ignored the sharp pricks of pain, hardly caring, and sucked in a breath to respond--

“--But you were _just a child,”_ Zexion cut him off, relentless, “naive and easily manipulated. Yes, yes, I know. You’re very fond of reminding me. Do you think simply saying it over and over will magically redeem yourself in the eyes of the Committee? Or the citizens? And let’s not forget about the Keyblade wielders. Do you think it matters to any of them that you’re human again? That according to you, you’re a better person now? You know they’ll never trust you. They look at you and see a _monster_. A potential _threat_. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the Keyblade wielders was sent to dispose of you in the near future. Just to be safe. Yes, very deplorable thought, I agree. Especially if it’s _Lea_ who--”

 _“That’s enough,”_ Ienzo hissed, voice like ice. He’d flung the blankets off and gotten to his feet at some point during Zexion’s lecture, though he couldn’t recall doing so; he’d forgotten just how blinding of an emotion anger could be. His hands were trembling. Still refusing to look directly at the doppelganger, he scowled at the bedpost. “I’m _sick_ of your constant reprimands and condescension. _Sick_ of you bringing up every single past mistake I’ve ever made. Get out. _Now.”_

Zexion stopped pacing and made a sound somewhere between a derisive chuckle and an amused snort. “I hardly think you’re in any position to order me around. Are you going to threaten me next, if I don’t comply? _That_ should be entertaining.”

“Is that so?” Ienzo ground out. “I fail to see why.” 

He tensed as Zexion’s languid footsteps approached. Glaring adamantly at the bedpost, he watched from the corner of his eye as the illusion came to a halt about two feet away. He saw it tilt its head to one side, slate hair ghosting across its face.

“And just how do you plan on threatening me, exactly?” Zexion asked. “You don’t have enough energy left to even summon a weapon. Yes, of course I know. Did you think I missed your laughable attempt the other night? Quite pitiful really.”

Ienzo said nothing, mouth pressed into a thin line as he tried to ignore the mounting anxiety in the pit of his stomach. 

“I don’t intend to leave any time soon, whether you like it or not. In the meantime, I’d take greater care not to insult my guest, if I were you.” Zexion let the silence spiral horribly before turning away and continuing with a dismissive flick of his hand, “Now, where was I before you rudely interrupted…”


End file.
